


Logan and Weevil Go on Vacation

by turnonmyheels



Category: Veronica Mars - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-30
Updated: 2010-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-13 11:16:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnonmyheels/pseuds/turnonmyheels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Veronica sees Logan and Weevil while on vacation and decides to investigate what they’re up to</p><p>2006 highwaymiles prompt #197 Veronica watches Logan/Weevil on Weevil’s bike</p>
            </blockquote>





	Logan and Weevil Go on Vacation

It’s three days past graduation. The 09ers are taking Le Grande Tour – something Lilly, Duncan, Logan, and I spent hours talking about. But instead of visiting the Louvre, I’m at an ancient resort, The Del Coronado in San Diego, soaking up the amenities while Dad works a case. Half his rate per day, plus free hotel with room for me and Backup, full spa access, and all the $20.00 breakfast I can eat. I shouldn’t complain; it’s the first vacation we’ve had since Lilly was murdered and Dad lost his job. And I _really_ shouldn’t complain since Dad solved the case our second night here and the Del is letting us stay for eight more days. What can I say? I’m bored.

Or I was until I caught a glimpse of one unbelievably ugly leather jacket accompanied by a flash of a bald head in a Mexican restaurant I’ve become fond of. I’m pretty sure it’s Logan and Weevil – but no matter how well the three of us worked Logan’s case I can’t imagine they’d be here – Coronado Island, San Diego – together. Or I was, until I caught a glimpse of Logan’s Xterra in the hotel lot. One dad ditcheage and check of the license plate later, I was sure, although I couldn’t explain the trailer attached to Logan’s car. I also can’t explain why those two would be at a fancy resort together. And I really don’t want to know why my teeth clench at the idea.

I haven’t seen Logan since final exams. He didn’t show up for graduation. I honestly can’t blame him for that, with no parents or really any friends to watch, it must have seemed like a waste of time. It disappointed me not to see him though. I thought graduation would be the perfect place to say a metaphoric goodbye to all the people I never wanted to see again. But I guess fate dealt me a tricky hand since I don’t _really_ want to say goodbye to Logan forever, just something more along of the lines of later.

I call the front desk and ask for Logan’s room, but find no such reservation. I call back and ask for Eli Navarro’s room. No luck there either.

I’m beginning to think I imagined seeing them just to give myself something to think about while sitting in my Sea Weed wrap – I’ll never understand why people find these things relaxing. It’s more like an evil torture device intended to soak all the energy out of a person - when a candid shot of Lynn Echolls and Logan aged seven or eight flashes in between Susan Sarandon and Kevin Costner on the Del’s 24/7 infomercial.

Obviously, I wasn’t wrong in the restaurant or the parking lot. Logan is here, and not on tour with our recently emancipated classmates. Unless I’m completely crazy, he’s here with Eli “Weevil” Navarro, graduate and former PCH gang leader.

Unlike Logan, Weevil was at graduation. His grandmother and cousins were positively beaming with pride. I asked him right before we walked what he was going to do with his life. His response? “Bet you’d like to know.” Whatever. I thought Weevil would jump at the chance to take back the PCHers but he’s surprised everyone, especially my dad, by staying far, far away from his old gang.

I was going to let it go – whatever Weevil does is likely to be illegal to some degree, but seeing him here with Logan makes me wonder. What is he up to? Are they up to something together? Maybe they aren’t up to anything – nah. Those two are always up to something.

Now I have some investigating to do, with Logan and Weevil and why I’m suddenly a ball of nerves after all those relaxation treatments. Investigation and introspection, here I come. Maybe I’ll get that chance to say later to Logan and a real good bye to Weevil.

* * *

That’s it. I’ve scoured every accessible inch of the grounds and rooms. Flirted with every male bartender here and I’ve come up with nothing. Disgusted by my lack of success, Dad’s obsession with fishing, and the prices on the menu, gratuitous or not, I grab Backup and go for a walk.

I’m two blocks from the hotel and dying for the pizza that’s tickling my nose when I find them – and both of their ugly jackets - sharing a pizza and a pitcher of beer at Village Pizzeria. So much for my pie, but hello to something to do. There aren’t many places to hide, and Backup’s not exactly inconspicuous, but I manage. Not that it’s hard when your quarry is drunk and sitting still. They put away more pizza than Backup and I could eat in a week and I lost count of pitchers after the fifth. One of these days Logan’s liver is going to give out on him and Weevil’s is too if the way he’s slamming them back is any indication.

They’re both obviously drunk, so now is not the time for conversation. It is a good time to investigate though. Drunk or not, they look like they’re having a good time. Logan’s saying something nasty, I can tell by the look on his face, but instead of punching him or walking out, Weevil throws back his head and laughs. Maybe they only get along with each other when no one else is around. Or one of them is facing prison. Jerks. Wait a minute – why am I angry that they’re getting along? After the summer from hell, I ought to be cheering their friendship on.

I follow them as they stagger back to the Del with little risk they’ll see me. I take the stairs and watch their ascent in the old fashioned cage style elevator. They’re on the fifth floor - the suites - and snug in their room.

Content that I’ve found something, no matter how irrational it makes me feel, I grab Backup from the Valet and go back to our Bungalow.

Two days go by before I catch sight of them again. I’m taking Backup for his morning run and spot a group of surfers. The waves here are small and far apart but the surfers are riding them all the way in.

Backup strains toward the water, which makes me look closer, and I almost die from shock. Logan’s got Weevil in a wet suit, trying to teach him to surf. Operative word being “trying.” Logan effortlessly takes one of the small swells and rides it all the way in while Weevil has a hard time turning his board in the right direction.

His shiny bald head is a dead give away. I hope he’s put some sunscreen on it. I realize if I can recognize them they should be able to recognize me, and I lead Backup to a comfy looking rock far enough away that their features are unrecognizable.

Weevil tries all morning to catch a wave, never getting farther than up on his knees, even with Logan sharing the board with him. That’s a weird way to teach someone how to surf. When I finally broke down and let Logan try to teach me, he never did that. He just laughed at my complete incompetence and kept riding wave after wave while I struggled to stand. I bet if Logan had got on the board with me and held my hips …

I’d be better off if I didn’t follow that train of thought - it’s going to naughty places I’d rather not think about.

Looks like Weevil agrees because they’re giving up. That or Weevil thought flipping off the board and wrestling in the water would be more fun than surfing. Hello sexual tension. Wait a minute. Sexual tension between Logan and Weevil? This vacation and complete lack of stress are doing things to me. Maybe I can convince Dad to go back early.

When they finally come in from the water I realize I’m still too close and head back to the Bungalow to put Backup away. A quick chat with Dad and refusal to fish later and I find myself following them once again. I seem to be doing an awful lot of following these two around just to say goodbye. There’s that introspection again and I’d really rather not.

Weevil stops at the pizza place and orders while Logan goes to Bank of Coronado. They’re only half a block apart so I hang out at the bagel shop across the street to watch what’s going down. By the time Logan comes out of the bank and joins Weevil, the pizza’s there and so is the beer. It’s not even noon!

I wish I could get close enough to bug them, but they know me and my ways, so my chance of success is absolute zero. They’re arguing and I can’t tell why; it’s making me more than a little happy to see that everything’s not as hunky dory as it appears. Guess I really do live up to being the bitch they used to call me. Logan gestures dramatically with his slice of pizza and Weevil shakes his head before standing abruptly. He puts his hands on the table and leans towards Logan with an air of menace. Weevil looks ready to kill but Logan is smiling back at him impishly. Logan is definitely up to something that Weevil doesn’t approve. I really, really wish I could hear their conversation.

The arguing doesn’t stop Weevil from buying lunch or following Logan back to the Del. They get into the Xterra, trailer and all, and thanking whatever deity that looks over girl detectives and convinces their fathers to let them drive solo to San Diego, I follow them in my car. While we’re driving over the Coronado bridge it seems the Xterra pauses where Lynn jumped and again where Felix died. Of course that could be my overactive imagination. Anyone who could get sexual tension out of a surfing lesson definitely needs a reality check and maybe a Tums if the ball of fire in my belly doesn’t go away. I follow them through town and watch with surprise as they pull into a Harley Davidson dealership.

I watch them for what feels like forever but is only an hour or so as Weevil looks at every bike on the lot. He finally finds one he deems worthy because he nods his head and is handed a set of keys. He takes his helmet out of the Xterra and Logan gets one from the salesman and then they take off, Logan looking like he’s holding on tight. Wimp. That was harsh. It does get kind of scary when Weevil takes off fast, but it’s fun, too.

Weevil heads to I-5 and turns North. I follow from a discrete distance and take the La Jolla exit a couple minutes after them. I see a sign for the La Jolla Parkway and expect them to take it but I’m surprised to see Logan gesture them straight ahead. Ten minutes and two turns later they turn into a public beach.

I circle the car around and back, then grab my camera. I know I won’t be able to get close enough so I let my lens do the work. They’re smiling at each other, shoving back and forth with shoulders and elbows as they descend the stairs at the cliff. They don’t go to the crowded walk over the water. Instead they stay on the sheltered side. They’re laughing and pointing like kids and it takes me a while to figure out why – there’s a seal colony in the cove. They look like they’re having fun – good clean fun – something I’ve never gotten to do with either of them. My time with Logan wasn’t exactly fun and until just this minute I was sure Weevil’s idea of fun involved gangland activity. But they’re pushing and shoving and laughing the way guys do and for some reason, I really don’t know why – who ever knows with boys – Weevil chases Logan up the steps. Logan beats Weevil to the bike – not much of a competition with his longer legs and a head start. Cheater.

They drive back the bike dealer. Logan goes inside with the salesman and Weevil looks ... embarrassed? Happy? Ill at ease? I’m not sure - it isn’t a look I’ve ever seen on his face before and it makes my stomach burn even more. Thankfully, I have a roll of antacids in my bag. Logan comes out a half hour later. He gets back on the bike with Weevil and someone else takes the Xterra. Back to the Del, I presume.

They follow the same path back to La Jolla, stopping at Jack in the Box for dinner. I notice that Weevil buys both meals. My stomach growls and I dig a granola bar out of the glove box.

I’m almost relieved when they turn into a wine store, they were being too – normal? The worry's back though when Logan comes out with a bottle and a blanket. Only Logan could buy a blanket in a wine store. I wait a little longer than usual before following after them, neither of them has spotted me which is weird, but I’ll work with it.

I’m not surprised to see them returning to the seal cove again. Weevil’s face looked like a kid at the zoo when they were here before. I get the camera back out to watch, the zoom lens brings them close enough that they could be sitting on the hood of my car instead of a couple hundred yards away. They sit on the bike and put their helmets on the handle bars, talking and sharing the bottle of wine. Logan looks comfortable sitting behind Weevil as they stare out at the ocean watching, admittedly, one of the best sunsets I’ve ever seen. I can’t really tell from the angle, but it looks like Logan has his hands on Weevil’s hips while Weevil leans back against him.

The granola bar must not have been enough to eat. I’m obviously seeing things. There’s another sharp pang in my stomach so I eat the entire roll of antacids.

They sit seemingly pressed against each other until the sun sinks into the ocean. The longer they sit and watch, the angrier I get. Maybe it’s PMS? I hear the rumble of the bike and they’re off again. I risk heading to Jack in the Box while they go back to the wine store for another bottle. I get back in time to follow them further up the coast, cheeseburger in hand.

The next time they turn off I don’t see much of a way to follow undetected with the car – it looks like a bike or jogger path. I follow on foot, keeping my Mag Lite focused at my feet. I hike down the path and wonder what’s going on here. Logan is obviously up to something but it doesn’t seem illegal. I should stop following them and go back to the hotel, come across them as innocently as possible and say goodbye then. But this is an excellent opportunity to flex my stake out muscles so I keep going.

After about a quarter mile I hear them laughing and talking though I can’t quite make out the words. I expected to find them on the blanket drinking the wine, but they’re both still on the bike. This time though, Weevil's turned around and is leaning against the gas tank facing Logan, his shorter legs draped over Logan’s. I can’t believe this; it’s like a scene from some cheesy, gay, biker love story.

Gay? Logan Echolls is _not_ gay. I know that from first hand experience. Weevil isn’t gay either, not that I have first hand knowledge, although there were a few times there were unmistakable sparks. Stop it brain. Stop thinking and watch, this could be future blackmail material. Why didn’t I bring my camera?

They’re both relaxed, facing the other, passing the wine between them. I still can’t hear what they’re saying from this distance so I turn off my flashlight and make sure my phone is on silent before creeping closer.

They don’t look it or sound it - and I don’t know why they would be as much as they normally drink - but I get the feeling they’re a little buzzed from the wine. Maybe it’s the moonlight. Damn. What the hell is wrong with me? Logan and Weevil drunk on moonlight in a scene from a gay biker movie. _As if._ Finally I’m close enough to hear what they’re saying.

“I still can’t believe you did this. I shouldn’t have let you,” Weevil says with that unfathomable expression back on his face.

“Like you could have stopped me.” Logan smirks. I hate that smirk; it makes me blush and my toes curl.

“You’re not as rich as you used to be. Are you sure … ”

“Shut up. I’m sure. If it bothers you so much you could sell your grandmother’s shack and give me that money back.”

“Fuck that _and_ you,” Weevil says as he grabs the bottle of wine from Logan and takes several swallows.

“That’s what I thought.” Logan isn’t smirking now; he’s got that sincere puppy-dog look on his face. The one that always gets me even though I pretend it doesn’t.

“Come on man, there must be something I could do.” Weevil punches Logan on the shoulder, and there it is, the friendly hetero camaraderie that proves the sexual tension was all in my head. I feel my anger fade just a bit.

“Shut up already, would you? I’m free, my dad’s facing the death penalty, and I couldn’t be happier.”

“But … ”

“Look.” Logan snatches the wine back from Weevil and takes a drink. There’s the Logan I know and … well not love or hate, but something. “After Dad got arrested, he started selling off some assets and funneling the money into trust funds for me and Trina. If I’m not totally retarded I’m set. I swear.”

I watch in stunned silence. Logan bought Weevil this bike? What the hell? All the anger is back and then some.

“And besides, if you hadn’t helped me I’d be in prison with dear old dad and you’d still have your old bike and the gang. It’s a fair trade.”

“I don’t see you doing anything like this for V.” Weevil tilts his chin up and stares Logan in the eyes. Then he does something I’m really not prepared for. He bats those Maybelline lashes at Logan and steals the wine from him again.

No you didn’t, I think as I grind my teeth, but before I can get self-righteous and any more worked up, Logan answers.

“I tried. But you know Veronica.” Logan shrugs and props his elbows on Weevil’s thighs. What is up with these two? Are they really flirting? Have I mistakenly eaten something hallucinogenic? “She’d sooner kick me in the balls than let me open a door for her. I sent her a check and she sent it back in little pieces.”

Ok. So I did. But I didn’t want his money. All I wanted was to be free of him and I am. All obligations 100 percent fulfilled. Which doesn’t explain why I’m stalking him across southern California to say goodbye, but when have I ever been rational concerning Logan? Or Weevil for that matter. Dad forbid me to have any contact with him at all and that didn’t stop me.

“So what now?” Weevil’s voice cuts my inner dialog.

“Buy a house somewhere the surf’s good and the press is scarce. Figure out what I want to do with myself. If anything.” Maybe it’s the moonlight making me hallucinate ‘cause I swear Logan’s tracing patterns with his fingertips on Weevil’s thighs.

They’re both quiet for a long time after that and I can’t stop wondering at the intimacy of their positions.

“What about you?” Logan asks and my cheeseburger must have had funky mushrooms on it because I can see him squeezing Weevil’s hips in each hand.

“Oh, you know. Learn to surf. Take advantage of loco gringos as long as they’re dumb enough to let me.” Weevil bats his eyes at Logan again. They chuckle a little at the joke and I see Logan offer Weevil the last of the wine. He shakes his head, and Logan shrugs then finishes it himself. He tosses the empty bottle into a trash can and then does something I’ll never forget. He wraps one hand around the back of Weevil’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss.

The breath rushes out of me; I have to sit and put my head between my knees. I expect to hear the sound of Weevil punching Logan or shoving him off the bike, but he doesn’t. He lets out a breathy sigh and kisses back. For a couple of minutes I stare with my mouth hanging open, thinking they must have spotted me tailing them somewhere and are just messing with me. But when Weevil slides off one shoulder of Logan’s coat and pulls him closer, I know that it’s not a show. This is real.

They keep kissing until Weevil shoves Logan back. He swings his legs off of Logan and the bike. He digs the blanket out of the storage compartment at the back of the bike and spreads it on the ground while Logan takes off his coat.

I wish I knew why my anger is gone and why I’m suddenly fighting back tears. I don’t love Logan. I don’t want Weevil. Definitely PMS. This does _not_ hurt me. Really.

They lay down on their sides facing each other. Logan traces his fingers over Weevil’s face. I know that move - it works. Bastard. Weevil runs one hand from Logan’s shoulder to his wrist. He squeezes the wrist and brings Logan’s hand to his mouth and kisses it.

Logan smiles at Weevil and leans in for a kiss. One kiss turns into three and then into ten and then Weevil rolls Logan onto his back and slides on top of him. They’re gasping for air and moaning a little – I can tell Logan’s moans from Weevil’s grunts and there’s another pang in my gut that antacids won’t cure either.

I shouldn’t be watching this. This isn’t some show they’re putting on for me, this is them. How they are and who they are, after everything they’ve - no we’ve been through.

Maybe that’s why I’m so mad. We went through it all more or less together, but they’re here doing this without me – as far as they know. Unless I’m going to join them and be the slut Neptune thinks I am, I need to go. Something tells me they wouldn’t want me to join anyway. God, not that I want to. Really.

I back out of my hiding space and head back to my car as quietly as I can. I don’t want them to know that I know and to be honest I’m not sure that _I_ want to know. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about this. I know I don’t have any kind of future with Logan. I don’t even want one. But having that option closed hurts in a way that surprises me.

I cry a little on the way home. I think I did a good job hiding the evidence but Dad can tell. He doesn’t push, which is my favorite thing about Dad. He just hugs me and asks if I enjoyed my summer vacation.

I smile, hug him back, and kiss him on the head. “Sure, Dad. It was great.”

What’s one more lie after all?


End file.
